


into you

by jeanmvrco



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, they fuck on a desk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeanmvrco/pseuds/jeanmvrco
Summary: When Marco accidentally sent his boss a dick pic, he thought he'd be fired. Not, well... you know.for jeanmarcomonth '17





	into you

**Author's Note:**

> because this boy needs some birthday sex (even if its not exactly "birthday sex")

“Eren, don’t you think it looks bent? Is that normal? Should I go to the doctor?” Marco asked his friend, just barely keeping the panic from seeping into his voice.

“I’m not looking at your dick, Marco. As much as I love you man, I don’t love you like _that_.” Eren responded, safely on the other side of the bathroom door.

“But what if something is wrong?!” Marco was at his wit’s end. Nothing had ever felt wrong, or gone wrong, with his dick before. He had never even noticed it was bent – until he took a good, hard, long (hah) look at it after seeing a PSA for testicular cancer.

“Ask Armin about it! The boy is a genius. Or just, y’know, google it. ‘Is my bent penis normal?’”

“Okay, fuck you, Eren.”

“What! I’m seriously trying to help you.” But Eren’s voice was already trailing away from the door, probably to the kitchen so he could steal more of Marco’s food.

Marco sighed, staring down between his legs once again. There couldn’t be anything wrong… _right?_ He was young, and healthy, and fresh out of college – he couldn’t be dying yet, could he? Not to mention he was working for one of the youngest (and cutest) CEOs in the city, and he may only be a secretary but Marco swore to himself one day he’d march into Jean’s office and tell him how he feels and take him right there on his desk, and he can’t very well do that with a bent penis.

So he swallowed his fears and took his phone out of his pants pocket, long discarded on the white tile of his bathroom floor.

Holding his shaft in his freckled fingers, Marco took a generally unappealing picture of his junk (there was no need for it to be _pretty_ – it was just going to Armin), before pulling his underwear back up to his waist.

He moved to stand near the center of his bathroom, nerves getting the best of him as he opened his messaging app. Marco tapped the screen by Armin’s last message, not bothering to check what was last said before attaching the picture of his weirdly shaped junk.

While it sent, Marco slipped his pants back on and left the bathroom, ready to type out a quick message to his friend.

“Hey Marco! I hope you don’t mind me coming over. Eren said you needed me.” Armin’s voice greeted him as he stepped into the living room.

“Hey, Armin.” Marco smiled. “Did you get the text I sent?”

Armin checked the blank screen of his phone. “No,” he said. “When did you send it?”

“Just now,” Marco mumbled, checking his own phone. “I thought it sent.” He opened the messaging app again, his heart stuttering in his chest.

Marco stared at the screen of his phone. _This can’t be happening,_ he thought. _I’m just having a really bad nightmare._

“Marco? What’s wrong?” Armin took the phone from his friend’s frozen hand. “Oh, no.”

“Okay, you guys are freaking me out. What’s wrong?” Eren stood from the couch, hands on his hips. “Did you send it to someone else?”

The two stayed quiet.

“Who?” Eren asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he closed the gap between the three.

“Jean.” Armin spoke for Marco, who was still frozen.

Eren’s mouth gaped. “As in our _boss,_ Jean? He didn’t.”

“He did.”

“Let me see.” Eren took the phone from Marco’s grip, unlocking it easily. “Oh my God…” He mumbled. Then: “Oh my God! He’s typing!”

“What?!” Marco took the phone, his limbs no longer frozen. He watched the three grey dots shake and vibrate on his screen.

_Please, if there’s a God out there,_ he thought. _Do me a favor and kill me now._

The three stared at the screen until the dots disappeared, along with Jean’s message.

“Hey didn’t say anything.” Armin breathed.

“You are so fired, dude.” Eren let out a laugh, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air.

Marco groaned, sliding the phone into his pocket. He slunk to the couch and buried his face in the pillows there.

“It’s been nice working with you, buddy.” Eren clapped his shoulder, before his footsteps disappeared near the door of the apartment.

“I think Eren and I should go,” Armin said. Marco unburied his face to look at his friend. “Try and get some sleep. Maybe look for a new job.”

-

So that’s what Marco did. He looked until three in the morning, when he passed out at his kitchen counter, laptop next to him.

The alarm on his phone chimed, and he woke with a start. “Oh no,” he groaned, stretching out the kinks in his back. He made sure to connect his phone to its charger before jumping in the shower.

“Okay Marco,” he let the water wash over him. “You might get fired today. Just tell Jean it was a complete accident. It wasn’t even supposed to be sexual! You were sending it to Armin to get it checked out. You got this.”

He waited for the water to run cold, taking as much time as possible before heading out the door.

Mumbling a mantra of “ _you got this, you got this, you got this”_ under his breath, he shoved through bodies on the busy streets of Trost. By the time he got to work, Marco had already worked through three scenarios in his mind – all ending in him getting fired.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a familiar head of blond hair waiting by the elevators.

“Hey,” he said to Armin, striding up behind him.

“Hey.” Armin replied. The blond shot him a sympathetic smile.

“He here yet?”

Armin nodded. “I saw his car in the parking lot.”

“Great.” Marco groaned.

They rode to the eleventh floor in silence, Marco’s foot tapping nervously on the steel.

“Eren and I will try to keep him distracted for the day.” Armin spoke up as they stepped off, walking down the short hall to their left.

Marco held the door to their office. “Thanks,” he smiled at his friend, his eyes scanning the spacious room for their boss. When he determined Jean was nowhere to be found, Marco took his seat at the receptionists desk, ready to start the day.

“Marco,” the familiar voice cut through the air, demanding attention only the way a boss could.

Marco’s mouth went dry, his face draining color as he watched Jean come out of his office, an unreadable expression on his face. Just before he could reach the desk, however, Armin stepped between the two.

“Ah, Jean! I, um, forgot to talk to you yesterday. About, uh, a sale I made yesterday. Could I talk to you by my desk?”

Jean sighed. “Fine, but I have a conference call in ten minutes. And I’d like to speak with Marco.”

“Of course.” Armin said, ushering their boss to the far end of the office.

Marco mouthed a _thank you_ to the blond when he looked back at him

_This is going to be a very long day._

-

By noon, Eren and Armin had managed to intercept Jean six times – and if they missed him, Marco made sure to scurry to the bathroom when he saw his boss coming.

It was at 3 PM that Jean tried to approach the desk again. Marco tensed, ready to duck away when the phone rang.

His blood ran cold.

With trembling fingers, Marco answered the call, trying not to watch as Jean rested his elbows against the desktop.

“I need to see you in my office at the end of the day,” was all he said. He didn’t seem angry, or creeped out, or worried. Perfectly composed.

Marco nodded his head, letting Jean know he understood, while the voice that came through the phone went unheard.

-

5:45 PM.

Eren and Armin waited for the rest of the office to file out the door before approaching Marco.

“Hey,” Armin’s voice was low. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

Marco didn’t respond – he simply nodded, his eyes trained on the closed door of Jean’s office. His blinds were drawn, had been for a while now. He could almost feel his termination papers sitting in front of him, red hot and waiting to burn him.

“You ready?” It was Eren this time, his hand reaching out grab onto his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Marco mumbled, pushing himself out of his chair. He’d already said goodbye to the memory foam cushioning and good lumbar support earlier.

“Want us to wait for you?” Armin asked.

“No, I want to walk around in the rain after this is over.” Marco said, ignoring his friends sympathetic smiles.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to rain today, though -” Armin started, but Eren cut him off.

“Just let him have this,” he said. “Come on.” Eren grabbed Armin’s arm, pulling him to the office’s door.

“You can do this!” Armin called, before the glass shut in front of him and Marco was alone.

“I can do this.” Marco repeated, squaring his shoulders. He put on a brave face and made his way to Jean’s door, the off-white blinds appearing to move farther away the closer he got – but, eventually, he stood at the door, his knuckles resting on the cool glass.

Marco knocked three times, his heart beating out of his chest.

“Come in,” Jean’s voice was gruff, strained with the weight of the day riding on his shoulders.

Marco took a deep breath before opening the door, the handle turning smoothly. “It’s me, Mr. Kirschtein.”

“Marco,” Jean set his pen down, pushing the papers he had been working on to the side. “Please, sit down.” He said, gesturing to the fake leather seats situated in front of his desk.

Marco obliged, the material squeaking as he sat.

Jean didn’t speak further, and Marco didn’t try. The clock on the wall _tick tick tick_ ed away, droning on and drilling into Marco’s senses.

When Marco was sure he had been sitting there for hours, he spoke up.

“Mr. Kirschtein-“

“Do you know why I called you in here, Marco?” Jean asked, cutting him off.

Marco swallowed roughly. _This is it,_ he thought. _This is what you’ve been dreading._

“I, uh,” he said, his throat tight. “I… I accidentally sent you pictures of my, um… my penis.”

Jean stared at him for a second too long, his mouth falling into a little ‘o’. “Right,” he said eventually. “You accidentally sent me a picture of your penis. An accident.” He shuffled the papers on his desk, clearing his throat one too many times.

Marco stayed quiet, too shocked to speak. Why wasn’t Jean yelling at him? Come to think of it, why hadn’t Jean called him yesterday, and fired him on the spot? Did Jean seem almost… disappointed that it had been an accident?

“Mr. Kirschtein,” He started, an idea forming at the back of his mind. “Did you-“

“It’s a good thing it was an accident, or else HR would have a field day with you. You don’t want to know what HR would do to you.” Jean cut him off. Marco watched as he fiddled with his tie, looking everywhere but at Marco.

“Mr. Kirschtein-“ He tried again, but Jean had started to ramble.

“I’m glad it wasn’t sent on purpose, Mr. Bodt. I don’t want to fire you, you’re a good worker and too valuable to the company.”

“Jean,” the use of his first name seemed to shock him, just enough for Marco to get a word in. “Did you...” Marco trailed off, mentally kicking himself for even _thinking_ such a thing. “… Did you not want it to be an accident?”

Jean sputtered, his face reddening. “I can’t believe you would say that. To your boss, of all people!” He stood from his desk, pacing behind his chair. “Did I want it to not be an accident? Maybe, okay? You’re an attractive man, Marco, but I’m your boss, and… and we’d both get in too much trouble with the company. I can’t believe either of us would think such insane things-“

Marco stood from his own chair, a weird confidence bubbling in his chest. Jean had wanted to see Marco not to fire him, but to… oh, God. _My boss wants to fuck me._

His mind reeled, and suddenly he was remembering things he had overlooked in the past. Like, when Jean had hit on him at the Company Christmas party (at the time Marco thought it had been playful banter, and nothing more). Or when he had found himself alone in the break room with Jean, and his boss couldn’t seem to get his words out, or get rid of the blush that permanently stained his cheeks.

Or when – _I can’t believe I did this_ – Jean had asked him to check out the new library opening in town, and Marco asked Armin to come with them, thinking it was going to be a work outing.

“-you can just go home, Marco, and forget about this miscommunication. I think it’d be best if we both forgot about it, actually.” Jean was still rambling when Marco came out of his reverie of forgotten memories.

“Jean…” His voice was quiet, barely audible over the ticking of the clock. He inched closer to the desk separating the two of them, his palms flat against the wood. “What would HR do?”

“I… What?” Jean asked, stunned.

“What would HR do to me?” Marco repeated, louder this time, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when Jean only blushed deeper.

“They-they would, uh,” Jean stuttered.

“Mmhm?” Marco encouraged him to keep talking, rounding the desk to stand in front of Jean, using their height difference to his advantage.

“They would, uh, have to talk to you.” Jean’s eyes were fixated on Marco, darting everywhere on his face, lingering on his lips.

“About what?” Marco asked, lifting his fingers to rest on Jean’s chin, tilting his head.

“About, uh, how that’s b-bad.” Jean said, his voice breaking on the last word.

“Mm,” Marco hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest. His new confidence that had blossomed spurred him on, turning him into something he hadn’t been in a while. “Can I kiss you?”

Jean nearly squeaked, his eyes widening before dropping down to stare at Marco’s lips. Silently, he nodded his head, sighing softly when Marco closed the gap between them.

Their kiss was sweet, and soft at first, but Marco knew Jean had other intentions.

“Are these important papers?” Marco asked, gesturing to the desk next to them. Jean shook his head, kissing along Marco’s jaw, and Marco took the opportunity to wipe the area clean, papers flying around them. They moved, then, so that Jean’s butt was resting on the desk, with Marco in between his legs.

“I’m going to have to clean those up, you know.” He said, his lips exploring the expanse of Marco’s jaw.

Marco laughed, catching Jean in another kiss. One hand ran up Jean’s back, tangling in his hair, while the other rested on his crotch, massaging Jean’s growing erection.

Jean groaned, his head falling into the crook of Marco’s neck.

“Do you like that?” Marco asked, his voice low. Jean just nodded, his breaths coming out in short little gasps. Marco’s hands moved to Jean’s zipper, pulling him out of his pants and boxers. His cock lay hard in Marco’s hand, Jean’s thigh twitching as Marco tightened his fingers around the base.

“Can I go down on you?” Marco whispered against Jean’s lips, sending a shiver down the other man’s spine.

“Yes, _please_ ,” he breathed, breath hitching when Marco lowered to his knees. He groaned, rolling his head back when he felt Marco’s lips on the head of his dick. Marco smiled, his tongue flitting out to lick at the slit, excitement coursing through him at every moan and gasp he heard coming from Jean’s mouth.

He loved being the source of please, of being in control. Every moan that came from Jean’s pretty mouth went straight to his own dick, straining against the fabric of his pants.

“Marco,” Jean moaned his name, cutting himself off when he felt himself get buried in Marco’s mouth, the tip of his cock nearly pressing against the back of his throat. “Oh my God, _Marco,_ ”

Marco chuckled, staring up at Jean through his bangs. Jean’s head was still tilted back, his shoulders twitching with every bob of Marco’s mouth on his cock.

“Fuck, oh my God,” Jean’s voice was filling the room, his thighs tensing around Marco when he decided to let up, his mouth coming off Jean’s cock with a nice _pop._

Jean whined, but Marco silenced him with a kiss. Jean was practically panting in his mouth, coming undone in Marco’s fingertips.

“Let me see your tie.” Marco said, pulling Jean off the desk. He obliged, undoing his tie. Marco took it from him and turned him around, bending him so his chest was flush against the desk. “I’m going to tie you up,” Marco explained, winding the silk material around Jean’s wrists. “Are you okay with that?”

Jean nodded, flexing his arms to see how the tie would hold.

“I need verbal confirmation, Jean.” Marco said, his voice soft, and closer than it had been before.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay with that.” Jean said.

Marco smiled, peppering kisses down Jean’s still clothed back, his lips stilling at his waist. He pulled Jean’s pants down, the expensive material pooling around his ankles.

Marco pulled Jean’s ass cheeks apart, his cock throbbing at the sight in front of him.

“Jean,” he breathed. “Please tell me you have lube.”

“I-in the top drawer,” Jean panted, his head moving to indicate where he meant. “I, uh, prepared. When I thought you sent me those pictures on purpose.”

Marco pulled open the door, fishing out the small bottle of lube and box of condoms, laughing. “Those weren’t even good pictures, Jean.” He said. “If I was going to actually send you a dick pic, it’d be while I was erect.”

“Right, of course, you weren’t erect, how silly of me.” Jean whispered, almost too quiet for Marco to hear.

“Were you that impressed?” Marco asked, smirking.

“Just shut up and fuck me, already.” Jean shot, pushing his ass against Marco.

“Your wish is my command.” Marco set the condoms on the desk before opening the lube and pouring some over his fingers. It was cool at first, but seemed to warm up when he rubbed his fingers together. “You ready?” He asked, one hand curling around Jean’s waist.

“Born ready,” Jean joked, but moaned loudly when Marco pressed his index finger in his hole, warming him up.

Jean let his head rest against the desk, moaning softly with every thrust of Marco’s hand.

“I’m going to add a second finger, now.” Marco told him, before pushing his middle finger in. Jean stretched nicely around his fingers, and Marco almost lost it at the thought of his cock being buried in Jean’s heat.

Marco stretched him even further, his fingers scissoring inside him, as Jean whined, bucking his hips.

“Marco, come on,” he said, breathless. “I need you.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Marco mumbled, pulling his fingers out of Jean, and undid his pants, letting them fall so they could mingle around his ankles with Jean’s. His cock twitched at the cool air, hanging heavy between his legs.

He grabbed the condoms and ripped the packing open, a little hasty. They fell out of the box, but Marco managed to grab one before it hit the floor. Taking the condom out of the foil, he rolled it over his dick and poured more lube on, pumping himself in his hand to spread the liquid around.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, resting one hand over Jean’s tied up wrists for support. With his other hand, he guided the tip of his dick to Jean’s hole, lining them up.

Jean gasped at the contact, arching his back. “Please, Marco,”

That was all Marco needed. With a strained groan, he pushed his cock into Jean, shuddering when Jean clenched around him.

Jean swore, biting down on his lip when Marco nearly pulled out before thrusting back into him. “Fuck, you feel so good, Marco.”

Marco tried to respond, but the only sounds coming from him were loud moans and the occasional curse. Jean did most of the talking – telling him to go faster, harder, _yes yes marco right there fuck_ , or when to slow down, to _keep hitting that spot, please marco –_

Marco took his hand away from Jean’s wrists, pulling his chest up a bit so he could get to Jean’s neglected cock. He wrapped his fingers around it, still slick with lube, and pumped him slowly. Marco watched Jean squirm underneath him, gasping, panting for breath, begging for release.

“Marco, _ah,_ I’m gonna come,” he moaned, his head rolling forward.

Marco stroked his cock faster, kissing his sweat soaked skin. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered, biting down on Jean’s ear lobe.

It didn’t take much longer – after a few fast strokes and hard thrusts he cried out, white streaks of come painting the desk and Marco’s fingers. He collapsed against the desk, his body clenching around Marco’s cock with every wave of his orgasm.

“God,” Marco moaned, incoherent as the knot in his stomach tightened uncomfortably, until he was coming himself. When he pulled out of Jean, his legs were weak, wobbling as he peeled the condom from his dick and threw it away, and his fingers shook as he untied the knot around Jean’s hands.

He let himself fall into the chair beside him, the tie still gripped tightly in his hands.

“Wow,” Jean laughed, stretching out his back. He turned to Marco, smiling down at him before falling into his lap, their skin sticking together.

“I think you’re gonna need to see me again, tomorrow, Jean.” Marco breathed heavily, still sensitive and coming down from his high.

“Oh, definitely.” Jean smiled. “We have a lot of work to get done.”


End file.
